Shadowkill

7

Wuraj was a small wiry man with coarse gray hair in a braid that reached past his belt. He braided his beard to match; it hung in two tails down his front. His eyes were a light yellow-brown, narrow, set in a weave of wrinkles. One arm was heavily bandaged. Three ragged scabs raked down the side of his face.

Matja Allina frowned. “I’m sorry, Wuraj, I hadn’t realized how bad it was.”

He looked scorn and didn’t bother answering.

“You’re sure?” Matja Allina said.

“Ya.”

“What will you need?”

“Name a the Mirp they headin for. The roans Arring keeps in south paddock, rifles, ammo packs. For me ’n them. They wouldna take any but sidearms they goin to meet Brushies. Bag a taffys for the Brushies. Might need sweet’nin up. Red cloth fer presents. Ah… and I want the Jinasu, you don’t mind. Nut’n else I can think of right now.”

“You’ll have it.” Matja Allina put her hand in her sleeve, brought out a small white card with a seal on it in red wax. She held it out to him. “If anyone questions you, show this.”

He nodded, tucked the card in a belt pouch.

“Bring the roans to the Kitchen Gate and wait there for the Jinasu and the rest of it.” She held out her hand. “Bring him back whole, Wuraj mi-chal. For all our sakes.”

She watched him out, then turned to the others. “Tinoopa, go wake Cook, get a bag of taffys from her and trek supplies. Do you know anything about packsaddles?”

“No, Matja Allina. I’ve lived in cities all my life.”

“Cook will show you. Go quickly. Everything I’ve promised you depends on him, do you understand?”

“Oh, yes, I do surely understand, oh, Matja.” Tinoopa dipped a curtsy and went out, moving at a fast trot.

“Aghilo, more running about for you. Wake Ingalina chal Beastmistress, have her send the Jinasu to the kitchen equipped for a trek. Do that first,, then send someone for a bolt of cloth, red cloth, make sure they know it has to be red, doesn’t matter who you send, just someone who’ll do it fast. Who you can trust to do it fast. Here.” She twisted a key off the ring at her belt. “Take this. When you get back, lock up the Arring’s study. I wish I’d thought of it before, that’s the one key Polyapo doesn’t have, Amurra be blessed. Or Kulyari. Then go wake Loujary chal and Wayak chal, I need them to carry me up to the armory, I don’t want to have to climb those stairs. And fetch Kulas chal, good old Kulas, if there’s any chalman I can trust, it’s him. I want him standing guard while I open the armory, I need him to take charge of the ammunition packs and the rifles and bring them down to Wuraj… “ She grunted, crossed her arms and bent over them. “No… ah! no, Hilo, don’t worry,” she gasped. “It’s not labor, just…”

Kizra dropped to her knees, pressed her hands against the active bulge of the baby, sent calm, ease, reassurance, felt the spasms relax under her palms.

Matja Allina straightened. Absently, she patted Kizra’s shoulder as she turned to Aghilo. “Go,” she said impatiently. “The sooner Wuraj is on his way, the sooner Pirs will be safe.”

Kizra leaned out her window, watched Wuraj on the ferry, riding one horse, leading another with a small pack on its back. The four tiny Jinasu were there with him, brown ghosts nearly impossible to pick out of the dark.

So many things she didn’t understand about this place. A man could send his daughter to his brother’s house and expect her to… well… seduce his brother.

That same daughter could plot her uncle’s murder and rejoice in what she considered her cleverness.

I thought it was craziness when Allina fussed about the danger to her baby and herself. Now…

When Wuraj was across, she turned away, pulled on her boots, and went down to breakfast.

After lunch Matja Allina went to bed and stayed there, leaving Tinoopa and Aghilo to keep order and continue the work of the Kuysstead.

Kizra was forced to sit with her in the darkened bedroom, playing the arranga for her, singing now and then the songs she’d picked up yesterday and on the trip here. She was pleased that her memory was so good despite what someone had done to her head. It was reassuring.

The day crept along.

Now and then, when Matja Allina let her stop playing for a while, she pushed the drapes back and looked out one of the sitting room windows, watching the chal and chapa move about the court below, chattering knots of girls, gossiping older women, busy, laughing, serious, none of them stuck away in a suffering eddy like this one where she was. She envied them. She was bored. More than anything she was bored.

Tinoopa crossed the court, heading for the storage yard, a covey of chattering maids trailing behind her. She looked vigorous and contented; even this far off, Kizra read a bursting energy; the woman was enjoying her fight for authority, using her cleverness and experience to get what she wanted.

Some time later Tamburra the Kiv’kerrinite walked from the herb drying rooms and headed for the entrance to the women’s living quarters. She glanced up at the flee of the House as she walked by, saw Kizra watching her, and then looked quickly away. Kizra scratched the inside of her elbow and wondered again what it was brought that woman to this place.

Matja Allina called her back into the bedroom. “Play that thing you did for dinner last night.” Her voice was fretful, her face was flushed, there was a shallow vertical pain-line between her brows.

“This one, Matja Allina?” She let the easy undemanding song drip from her fingers. Boring. Boring. All of it. Stifling. Gods, I want to… I want… She didn’t know what she wanted, except it wasn’t this.

“You’re frowning. What are you thinking?” Matja Allina’s eyes caught what little light there was, seemed to glow. “Kizra Shaman, do you know something about Pirs? What is it? Tell me. You have to tell me.”

“No, Matja Allina. Of course not, how could I? I was just… just thinking.”

“About what? What worries you?”

Kizra blinked at her. Not even my own mind belongs to me, she thought mutinously. What to say… what? Ah. “Kulyari,” she said. “I was thinking about how disappointed she’s going to be when the Arring walks in. What a snit she’s going to throw.” She moved her shoulders. “That wasn’t what bothered me, it’s what she’s going to do next. After the Arring walks in.”

“Walks in. Yes. So we must hope.” Allina closed her eyes, the brief spurt of energy draining from her.

“Matja, ah…”

“What is it?”

“Aghilo didn’t want me to bother you, but… Is there ANY way you can find out who Kulyari was talking to?”

“Little chapa, it’s all right.” The Matja’s feverish intensity faded to a drowsy musing. “It’s no bother because I don’t need to ask. I know who she was calling. Rintirry. My loving brother-by-law. Dear Rintirry who is so very fond of his brother he tried to rape me as soon as he saw Pirs wanted me.” She clicked her tongue. “Hai, Kizra, you listen so deeply it’s easy to say far too much. Pirs doesn’t know about that. No one knows. I broke the bastard’s nose for him and he went away. Please. If you say anything it will make more trouble than you can possibly understand.”

“All right.”

Matja Allina closed her eyes. “Go find Gilli chal, will you, please. Then come back and tell me what Kulyari’s doing.”